THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


I'm  a  son  of  a  foreign  land, 

And  maybe  foreign  sounds  my  song; 
But  that  my  voice  shall  be  heard  here, 

I  cherish  the  dream  in  heart  long. 

And  if  you  would  not  understand 
A  word,  a  feeling,  or  a  thought, 

Then  of  a  wanderer  you  think 

That  from  a  far  land  flowers  brought. 


By  A.  ZIMMERMAN. 


626094 


Copyright  1922 

by 
A.  Zimmerman 


Let  them  sing  of  the  glory  of  the  mountains  high, 
I  will  sing  of  their  rocks  and  stones, 

Of  beast  that  there  in  darkness  cry, 
Of  beast  and  bird  and  of  their  groans. 

O'  let  them  sing  of  forests  solemn  great  and  old, 
Of  what  it  dreams  and  often  grieves. 

I  will  of  its  roots  sing  untold, 
I  will  sing  of  the  dying  leaves. 


I  happy  felt  and  laughed, 

But  when  of  laughter  tired  got, 

Began  to  feel  in  me  the  devil  laughs. 

I  gloomy  felt  and  cried. 

But  when  my  heart  became  sick  crying, 

I  felt  the  beast  in  me  was  howling  wild. 

And  silent  I  became— 

And  felt  that  I'm  a  mortal  God, 

That  silently  speak  to  the  eternal. 


I  saw  today  a  song 

Of  charms  and  grace — 
You,  you  it  were, 

It  was  your  face. 

I  heard  today  a  dream 

Of  pure  rejoice — 
It  was  of  mirth 

And  cheer  your  voice. 


Poor  girl,  happy  you  are  because 
Near  the  window  given  a  place — 

Where  you  rising  your  little  head 
See  sometimes  a  passerby  will  face. 

Poor  girl,  happy  you  are  because 
A  little  sunshine  more  you'll  get. 

O'  poor  girl,  your  toil  the  sun 

And  the  world  will  make  you  to  forget. 


Did  you  hear  a  sigh 

In  the  darkness  of  the  night— 
A  deep  and  gentle  sigh 

That  disturbed  the  silence  quiet! 

O,  may  be  a  spirit  kind 

Fleeted  by, 
Or  we  chosen  were 

To  hear  a  sad  angel  cry. 


We  came  in  the  world  that  our  deathless  souls 
Shall  feel  that  were  in  this  world  glorious  great. 
That  in  their  wandering  they  didn't  miss 
A  world.    They  misery  and  woe  don't  fear. 
What  it's  to  those  that  restless  are  to  see 
New  heavens  blue  and  stars  above  their  heads. 


And  the  Creator  Lord  said  to  Chaos: 

"I  want  of  you  a  world  to  create, 
Chaos,  Chaos,  I  will  make  of  you 

A  world  great." 

Then  wailed  and  roared  ages  long,  long  Chaos 
And  said,  O  Lord,  "Let  me  what  was  be 

From  commandments  holy  and  from  rules, 
And  laws  free." 

And  the  Lord  long  thought  and  said  to  Chaos: 

"Don't  fear,  and  don't  dread,  you  my  first  born! 
You  will  never,  never  from  the  world 

Be  forlorn." 

*  *       *       * 

A  voice  I  heard  that  I  dreaded  and  distrusted 
That  whispered  to  me: 
"Disregard  the  world! 
Scoff  the  wise ! 

Let  them  walk  their  paths  of  right — 
And  you  go  your  wrong  path. 
Let  them  laugh  loudly  at  you — 
You  laugh  inwardly  at  them. 
Let  them  laugh  in  daylight  at  you— 
You  laughed  at  them  in  the  darkness  of  night. 
Let  them  find  strength  in  the  strength  of  the  mul 
titudes — 
You  seek  strength  in  the  strength  of  the  one." 

*  *       *       * 

I  know  sometimes  days  and  weeks  long: 

Your  soul  is  burdened  with  a  great,  great  feeling 

And  you  don't  know  why.    But  it  is  a  song — 
It  is  a  song  that  is  your  heart  deep  thrilling. 

Believe  this  thought,  believe  your  inner  voice! 

Don't  say:  "Not  often  generous  is  to  us  the  nature. 
O,  it  itself  is  full  with  great  rejoice, 

When  makes  with  a  song  a  soul  or  creature." 

5 


Iff 

r 

TWO  PRAYERS 

Father,  father  of  the  world! 

See  as  a  beast  wild 
For  a  rabbit  hunts 

Trailing  yours  a  helpless  child. 

Father,  father  of  the  world! 

See  the  poor  beast's  pain, 
As  a  whole  night  long 

Starving  hunts  for  prey  in  vain. 


Your  sorrow  deep  you  cannot  tell, 
You  would  your  soul  yourself  offend- 

Rut  I  your  inner  woe  and  pain 
In  my  soul  feel  and  understand. 

Still  untouched  is  your  body  white 
And  your  tried,  tempted  soul  is  pure, 

And  all  the  storms  great  of  days  young. 
Endured  as  wise  old  saints  endure. 

And  now  your  body  snowy  white, 
And  your  soul  sweet  you  give  away 

To  one  that  filled  you  with  a  sense 
That  you  forever  are  his  prey. 


In  their  iron  cages 

I  watched  the  wild  beasts, 
And  by  the  lion  old 

Deeply  was  impressed. 

And  not  by  his  strength, 
And  not  by  his  grace, 

But  by  his  desire 

Back  and  forth  to  pace. 

No  man  ever  chained, 

No  king  in  a  cell 
Could  more  of  his  woe 

Than  this  pacing  tell. 


I  every  day,  hour  every  find 
In  me  another  unknown  soul. 

And  left  forgotten  in  behind 

A  fleeting  dream,  a  deathless  goal. 

And  dead  tomorrow  will  be  I 
Dead  will  be  the  one  of  today, 

And  now  for  my  soul  dying  cry 

And  now  for  the  new  born  one  pray. 


O  many  thousands  songs  I  wrote 

And  not  a  crust  of  bread  for  them  I  get— 
And  youth  and  life  I  sacrified  for  them, 

And  that  at  night  could  write  them,  at  day  sweat. 
And  for  them  challenged  life  and  death. 

And  I  will  may  be  struggling,  struggling  fall. 
And  those  that  will  some  day  besmirch  my  name, 

And  those  that  insight  will  gain  in  my  strange  life, 
Or  that  -they  gained  will  slanderously  claim 

O,  devil's  roar'll  get  honor,  gold  and  fame. 


Once  in  my  childhood  poor  and  long,  long  gone 
Of  a  strange  pain  in  soul  aware  became — 

It  burned  and  burned  and  burned  days  long  and 

nights 
Till  thought  in  me  it  burns  God's  sacred  flame. 

And  then  I  heard  a  grave  and  solemn  voice: 

"O,  mortal  bend  your  knees  and  hide  your  face! 

And  let  your  heart  rejoice  a  great  rejoice, 

Because  you're  chosen  to  speak  for  your  race. 

It  is  you  that  in  the  humblest  hovel  're  born, 
That  to  the  great  and  mighty  sent  to  speak— 

Because  said  leaders  can  make  of  forlorn 

As  thunders  roar  can  make  the  weak  and  meek. 


I  am  a  beast  that  through  the  jungle 
Is  making  his  trail  all  alone, 

That's  a  proud  outcast  of  his  heard 
Distrusted  by  all  and  loved  by  none. 

And  his  heart's  craving  for  a  friend, 
But  his  own  brother  wouldn't  greet, 

And  in  a  deadly  grip  would  fall, 
If  he  his  mate  desired  would  meet. 


8 


There  are  thoughts  that  are  born  only  in  the  mind 
Of  the  poor,  homeless,  shelterless  one— 
In  the  minds  of  those  that  are  alone. 

O,  many  of  those  were  born  in  my  mind. 

There  are  thoughts  that  are  born  only  in  the  mind 
Of  the  one  that  is  out  in  rain  and  storm. 
And  feels  as  on  a  rock  a  worm. 

O,  many  of  those  were  born  in  my  mind. 

There  are  thoughts  that  are  born  only  in  the  mind 

That  cannot  see  a  world  in  need, 

And  wants-f or  others  cry  and  plead. 
O,  many  of  those  were  born  in  my  mind. 

There  are  multitudes  that  weep 
And  the  world  sees  never  theirs  a  tear — 
Millions  cry  in  sorrow  and  pain  deep 
That  men  in  life  never,  never  hear. 

There's  in  poverty  and  darkness  great 
Hidden  hopes  and  glimpses  of  rejoice, — 

O,  Lord,  let  me  see  and  hear  their  fate, 
Let  me  of  the  voiceless  be  the  voice. 


I  am  a  loving  child  of  cosmos, 
A  little  child  wise  and  deep  feeling 
That  looks  in  the  face  sorrowful 
Of  his  poor  helpless,  helpless  mother. 
And  he  feels  all  her  pains  and  woes. 
And  he  suspects  hidden  miseries 
That  with  his  love  he  cannot  relieve. 
And  in  his  heart  there's  fear  and  pity 
For  his  poor  mother  and  himself— 
And  he  tries  to  console  her  and 
Tears  bitter  tears  of  a  little  child 
Soul-broken  roll  down  his  cheeks. 


<J 


When  I  am  tired  of  the  world, 
When  I  am  sick  of  the  world, 
When  I  am  mad  at  the  world- 
Then  I  want  to  go  to  a  forest 
Or  a  field  covered  with  grass, 
Because  there  are  times  when  men  and  women  and 

children  love; 
And  there  are  times  when  men  and  women  and 

children  hate,— 

But  in  the  bitterest  moments  of  my  life 
Never  felt  yet  hate  in  my  soul  to  a  tree 
Or  a  blade  of  grass. 


The  mystery  of  my  strength  was  that  I  never 
seemed  to  the  world  what  I  am. 

And  I  seemed  to  be  foolishly  smiling  the  smile  of  a 
fool  peasant  when  I  scoffed  the  world. 

And  1  seamed  to  be  a  boneless  weakling, 

When  I  felt  that  stronger  than  storms  was  my 
desire  to  say  my  word. 

And  I  seemed  to  be  a  willing  slave  when  bathe  and 
drown  could  my  masters  in  the  boundless  sneer 
ing  hate  of  my  soul. 


For  the  sun  and  field  and  forest 

Cries  your  soul 
And  you're  told:   Your  holiest  calling 

Is  to  toil. 

And  for  goals  far  and  world  endless 

Long  and  crave, 
And  you're  tought:    The  greater  virtue 

Is  to  slave. 


10 


Days  of  misery  knew, 

When  was  hungry  and  cold, 
And  my  pockets  contained 

I  thought  mountains  of  gold. 

And  I  voiceless  was, 

And  degraded  and  meek, 

And  thought  that  I  was  born 
To  a  great  world  to  speak. 

With  the  gift  I  was  born 
To  feel  and  understand, 

But  I  ran  from  my  foe 
And  still  further  from  fired. 

And  I  dreamed  and  I  thought: 
This  is  the  wonderful  fate 

Of  the  one  that  wants  help 
God  his  world  to  create. 


11 


Woe's  to  the  beast  that  to  face's  born. 
Rain  and  hail  and  wild  wind  and  storm- 
To  wander  days  lost  and  forlorn— 
And  givens  a  shelter  quiet  and  warm. 

Woe's  to  the  beast  that's  born  to  roam 
In  fear  and  terror  seeking  prey— 
And  given  is  he  it  a  restful  home, 
And  blood  to  drink  and  bones  to  play. 

Woe's  to  the  beast  that  is  born  to  scent 

Of  deadly  enemy  the  breath— 

And  that  protected  from  man's  hand 

And  from  beast's  claws  and  beast's  sharp  teeth. 


O  Lord,  Lord  as  my  ancestor  of  old 

To  sacrifice  my  child  wouldn't  fear, 
If  sacrifice  him  would  be  told, 

But,  pray,  don't  make  your  message  him  to  bear! 

O  Lord,  your  will  I  wouldn't  disobey 

And  slaughter  would  my  only  son— 
But  Lord,  my  Lord,  O  Lord,  I  pray 

He  shall  not  be  born  as  me,  your  chosen  one! 


12 


Where  is  your  fatherland? — your  say? — 

I  was  with  you  in  the  same  old  world  born — 
And  father  poor  and  mother  sweet  I  mourn, 

And  to  the  same  old  God  I  pray. 

And  in  my  childhood  poor  in  sadness  gone, 
Loved  I  to  look  at  the  moon  late  at  night, 
And  loved  to  see  the  same  old  stars  bright, 

And  greeted  as  you  were  by  the  same  sun. 

And  taken  back  by  mother  earth  will  be. 

And  as  yours  my  soul  God  will  have  to  face, 
And  glory  immortal  and  endless  grace 

My  soul  and  your  soul  of  the  same  Lord'll  see. 


God  loves  all,  all  the  lonesome — 

Those  that  are  with  sad  and  sick  souls, 

With  longings  hidden  deep  in  their  hearts 
For  far,  far  worlds  and  unreached  goals. 

God's  with  those  that  in  silence  cry 

And  only  cry  when  all  alone. 
For  the  dreams  holy  unattained, 

And  for  the  days  dear  that  are  gone. 

God  loves  the  lonesome  all  that  cry 
As  old  oaks  dying  lonely  quiet — 

Because  long  hours  he  himself, 
Cries  in  the  darkness  of  the  night. 

God  loves  to  be  with  all  that  cry 
When  all  alone  of  their  sad  fate. 

O,  he  himself  of  world's  fair  dreamed 
Long  ages  that  he  couldn't  create. 


LIFE  AND  DEATH 

On  a  summer  sunny  morning, 
When  the  heavens  scattered  gold, 

Chopping  wood  once  saw 
A  man  under  a  tree  old. 

And  the  tree  in  glory  green 
Greeted  east  and  greeted  west, 

And  spoke  of  its  silken  leaves, 
And  of  the  birds  in  its  nests. 


I  bless  you,  Lord,  for  the  great  glory 

Of  being  by  my  brother  men  misunderstood. 

And  for  the  joys  of  bearing  all  their  burdens, 
And  that  for  them  I  chosen  was  to  brood. 

I  bless  you,  Lord,  that  I  for  them 

Not  they  for  me  in  darkness  often  shed  a  tear. 
That  I  their  pains  to  know  their  woes  to  carry 

Born  was  not  they  my  to  know  and  to  bear. 


You're  laughing — laugh,  but  you  remember, 
Not  a  sound  in  the  world  is  lost. 

That  wander'll  through  a  thousand  worlds 
Till  reach  will  to  the  holy  ghost. 

You're  crying — cry,  but  you  remember, 
That  ages  long  sound  every  soars. 

And  the  Lord  will  turn  away  his  face, 
When  hearken'll  to  your  moaning  coarse. 


14 


O,  when  win  my  life-long  battle  would, 

And  conquered  would  be  my  fate, 

And  a  glorious  and  great 
Victory  and  joy  I  could. 
Through  a  long  day  celebrate — 
A  sorrow  would  feel  that  awake. 
Can't  my  scoffers  snatched  by  death; 

That  my  sneerers  are  gone  will  regret- 
The  ones  that  urged  to  forsake 

My  goal,  and  dreams  to  forget. 


Proud  she  was  and  pure,  pure  in  soul, 
But  faltered  once  and  had  to  fall. 
Since  then  she  felt  in  sorrow  grim — 
There  is  no  room  for  her  and  him 
In  this  great  world.    But  was  to  kind 
Room  for  herself  to  seek  to  find. 
So  pure  and  proud  and  bold  and  grim, 
She  made  room  in  the  world  for  him. 


When  I  feel  a  tear, 

I  don't  let  it  fall 
On  the  muddy  ground  to  sink, — 

This  is  a  child  dear 
Of  my  tortured  soul 

That's  a  song  I'll  adopt,  I  think. 


So  I  was  mocked. 

I  was  born  in  the  world  with  the  frail  body 
Of  a  half-starved  beast 

And  the  face  of  a  stone  cutter  or  woodchopper, 
And  a  soul  that  wanted  to  be  always  in  the 
Realms  of  thought  and  of  dreams. 
With  a  heart  that  yearned  for  the  seen  and  unseen 
Beautiful  of  life. 

So  I  was  mocked. 

And  so  were  you  mocked. 
Born  with  the  grace  and  bearing  of  a  king 
With  the  strength  of  a  beast  that  was  fed 
On  warm  blood  and  trembling  yet  with 
Life  flesh — 

You  only  sec  the  world  you  live  in 
And  more  you  don't  want  and  for  more 
You  don't  crave, 

So  were  you  mocked. 


O'  Lord,  I  saw  as  your  young  children  die 

And  as  to  death  as  brutal  beast  were  sent, 
And  mother  cried  and  fathers  that  couldn't  cry 

To  their  graves  sad,  heartbroken  went. 
And  I,  O  Lord,  wouldn't  step  on  a  crawling  worm, 

Lord,  day  every  're  buried  angels  sweet 
That  came  in  world  to  fill  us  with  delight, 

Born  love  to  radiate  with  every  breath, 
Given  to  the  horror  of  an  endless  right 

And  I  to  fallen  leaves  would  give  a  shelter  warm. 


When  God  loves  me, 

I  smile — 
And  his  great  presence 

Feel  for  a  while. 

When  God  loves  me, 

I  cry— 
And  hear  him  asking: 

Poor  child,  why,  why! 


More  than  the  Lord  of  above 
Pity  I  his  children  sick, 
More  than  he  his  helpless  weak 

And  all  his  creatures  love. 

Often  pray  for  all  the  dead, 
All  the  dead  far,  far  and  near, 
And  in  my  heart  there  is  a  tear 

For  all  those  that  are  with  souls  sad. 

And  the  beauty  feel  I 

More  than  He  of  birds  that  sing, 
Of  the  flowers  bright  in  spring 

That  so  young  and  early  die. 

And  I  pity  more  the  worm, 

And  the  hungry  roaming  beast, 
And  the  lark  that  lost  her  nest 

In  a  night  of  rain  and  storm. 

Than  the  Father  of  above, 
Pity  more  his  children  poor, 
And  my  soul  cannot  endure 

To  see  them  deprived  of  love. 


17 


My  unknown  dear! 

As  there  is  a  God  in  the  world  I  swear, 
That  flesh  of  my  own  flesh  I  often  tear 
That  songs  I  could  create. 
But  may  be  younger  flesh  demand  will  fate. 

O  unknown  dear! 

Will  you  let  me  flesh  of  your  young  flesh  tear 
That  songs  I  could  create? 

My  unknown  dear! 

As  there  is  one  God  in  the  world  I  swear, 
That  blood  of  my  blood  to  pour  I  don't  fear 
That  songs  I  could  create. 
But  may  be  purer  blood  demand  will  fate. 

O  unknown  dear! 

To  pour  your  young  pure  blood  would  not  you  fear 
That  songs  I  could  create? 


I  saw  my  richest  dream,  most  daring  hopes 
In  the  full  bloom  of  a  full  life. 
But  not  in  my  own  poor  dark  life, 
But  in  the  lives  of  those  that  never 
As  I  decades  long  toiled  for  bread— 
And  did  not  slave  and  sweat  for  a  shelter, 
And  never  were  nights  long  awake, 
And  never  knew  the  pains  heartbreaking 
Of  failures  great  year  after  year; 
And  never  saw  the  ruins  ghastly 
As  I  of  what  they  built  and  built 
With  blood  and  tears. 


18 


Far  in  the  cloudless,  blue,  blue  of  the  heaven 
Before  my  gaze  my  soul  a  cloud  detects. 

And  every  trembling  ray  of  an  old  star 
Reflects. 

And  often  for  the  color  of  a  rainbow 
My  lord  in  soul  unwillingly  reproach — 

And  feel  sometimes  a  star  is  there  in  the  world 
Too  much. 


The  rustle  of  fallen  leaves 
Spoke  to  me  and  said: 

"Death  is  in  our  lives 
And  alive  when  dead." 

Memorizing  whisper 

Puzzles  of  life  and  death. 
Wonders  whisper,  whisper, 
Lest  we  them  forget. 


Birds  that  are  dead  will  never  sing. 
Maybe  this  is  the  reason  why 
So  often  many  of  them  die 

In  early  spring. 

Someone  a  great  one  that's  somewhere, 
The  silence  wants  of  a  dark  night — 
That  the  world's  voiceless  and  quiet 

He  wants  to  hear. 


19 


O,  hearken  to  me  Lord, 
I  speak  for  brother-man. 

We  want  a  God  that  roar 
A  healthy  laughter  can. 

And  be  a  fool  as  we, 

And  with  us  children  play. 
And  shall  not  expect  of  us 

Our  worship  and  our  pray. 

O,  hearken  to  me  God! 

I  speak  for  brother-men. 
We  want  and  need  a  God 

That  with  real  tears  cry  can. 

We  are  tired  and  bored  to  death 
You  to  bless,  to  you  pray. 

And  often  mad  makes  us 
That  you're  so  far  away. 

O,  hearken  to  me  God! 

I  speak  for  brother-men. 
Live  with  us,  play  with  us, 

Cry  with  us,  if  you  can. 


Shing  Lee  kneeled  before  almighty  Buddah 

And,  devotedly  in  woe  and  pain, 
Prayed  for  the  peace  in  his  land, 

For  bread,  sunshine  and  for  rain. 

And  lo!  a  great  and  strange  wonder  happened- 
Buddah  solemnly  moved  once  his  head. 

And  Shing  Lee,  amazed  by  this  great  wonder, 
Fell  before  his  God  on  the  ground  dead. 


20 


In  olden  times  once  a  strange  wonder  happened: 
A  mother  with  a  child  in  a  jungle  strayed. 

And  long  she  sought  in  vain  a  trodden  path, 

And  long  in  vain  to  heaven's  implored  and  prayed. 

And  then  died  the  poor  and  helpless  mother. 

And  many  years  by  the  breast  of  the  dead — 
Till  found  there  was  once  by  a  hunting  king, 

The  infant  with  milk  pure  and  fresh  was  fed. 


Blood  of  my  blood  all  over  in  the  world 
For  life  and  light  and  sunshine  craves. 

And  flesh  of  my  flesh  in  the  farthest  corners  of  the 

world 
By  worms  are  eaten  and  forever  rot  in  cold  graves. 

And  souls  of  my  soul  are  in  deep  hell  and  heaven 

for  the  good  that  did  and  the  evil. 
And  brothers   poor  of  mine  and   sisters  helpless, 
weak  of  mine, 

In  sorrow  and  despair  call  for  God  and  the  devil. 


Things  that  would  call  a  miracle  in  my  life, 
That  my  soul  would  spur  and  overwhelm— 

I  saw  in  the  lives  of  others. 

And  they  were  calm  and  ungrateful, 

And,  as  suckling  babies  that  bite  the  breast  that 
feeds  them, 

They  drink  of  the  joy  of  life, 
And  despise  the  source  of  them. 

And  given  are  they  to  them  by  the  same  power 

That  deprived  me  of  light  and  air. 


21 


Said  the  new  world  to  the  old: 
You  with  toilers  simple  and  plain 
Only  paying  're  for  my  grain. 

For  my  bread  and  blood  and  gold." 

Said  the  old  world  to  the  new: 
"Pay  you'll  with  another  wage— 
I  the  singer  of  the  age, 

Send  you  will  sincere  and  true." 


Begin,  begin,  begin,  begin. 
This  is  what  a  new  born  child  is  told. 
And  this  we  hear  in  our  age  old- 
Begin,  begin,  begin,  begin. 
To  live,  to  laugh,  to  love,  to  win. 
Begin,  begin,  begin,  begin, 
To  dream,  to  ask,  to  think,  to  speak, 
To  wander  and  to  roam  and  seek. 
Begin,  begin,  begin,  begin, 
To  hope,  to  do,  to  build,  to  sin. 


Kiddie,  Kiddie,  a  little  dove, 

A  dove  wounded  found,  a  mother  sad. 
She  so  motionless  and  quiet 

Lay  that  thought  that  she  is  dead. 

"And  what'll  you  do  with  the  dove?" 

My  child,  my  little  child !  This  dove  will  kill. 

And  for  baby  darling  sweet, 
And  for  you  will  cook  a  meal. 


22 


A  TRAGEDY  OF  THE  JUNGLE 

Back  from  the  Jungle  dying 
Came  to  his  den  a  wild  beast, 

Bleeding  from  a  wound 
Deadly  in  his  breast. 

The  cubs  licked  the  blood  stained  sand, 

Fighting  lustily  around, 
Waiting  till  more  blood 

Will  be  on  the  ground. 

*  *       *       * 

From  behind  the  old  trees, 
Looked  long  I  at  the  naked  moon. 
And  she  dreamed  in  her  nude  glory. 
Then  she  saw  me,  and  confused 
She  smiled,  and  to  hide  herself 

Tried  behind  the  clouds. 

*  *       *       * 

One  thing  my  hard  life  impresses 

Always  on  my  mind — 
Not  to  see  the  pains  of  men, 

And  be  to  their  sorrows  blind. 
As  they  are  to  my  sorrows  blind. 

And  another  thing  impresses 
My  life  on  my  mind — 

To  remember  all  my  pains 
When  the  world  is  not  to  me  kind, 

And  be  to  the  struggling  kind. 

*  *       *       * 

Deaf  of  the  world,  blind  of  the  world! 

I  can  you  understand. 
O,  cripples  and  hunchbacks  of  the  world, 

I  am  your  brother  friend! 

As  all  the  blind  don't  see  sometimes, 
As  all  the  deaf  sometimes  don't  hear. 

And  as  the  cripples  and  the  hunchbacks 
In  strange  shame  often  shed  a  tear, 


Far  is  the  road  and  level  is  the  road. 

To  lakes  and  mountains  and  to  cities  leads. 
And  the  men  that  tread  day  and  night  the  ground 

Arc  of  every  race  and  breed  and  many  creeds. 

And  in  times  gone  a  traceless  jungle  it  was. 

And  the  trail  first  made  a  man  lost,  forlorn. 
That  prayed  and  cried  and  pleaded  cursing  fate 

Not  knowing  that  to  tread  a  path  was  born. 


It  is  a  burden  heavy 

That  men  must  bravely  bear — 
In  days  of  pain  and  sorrow 

Not  to  dare  shed  a  tear. 
And  my  soul  cries  and  cries 

And  is  longing  for  the  right 
That  to  my  sisters  is  given— 

To  cry  in  days  of  plight. 


A  thought  lurked  in  my  mind, 

A  thought  that  my  soul  stirred, 
And  troubled  me  for  a  while, 
And  disappeared. 

Who  knows  maybe  it  is  the  thought 

That  wanders  ages  long, 
That  seeks  a  holy  mind 

And  fiery  tongue. 

Maybe  it  was  a  thought 

That  would  a  world  enlight, 

And  point  to  shortest  path 
To  love  and  right. 


24 


Maybe  you  have  no  God  above, 
Maybe  as  grass  you  grow  and  die, 

Maybe  as  beast  in  field  and  forest 
To  no  one  call,  to  no  one  cry. 

But  his  might  and  his  force  I  feel 

In  the  bread  that  I'm  given  and  not  given 

In  every  painful  wound  of  mine 
Feel  the  hand  of  the  Lord  in  heaven. 


A  water  drop  on  the  ground,  fell 
And,  as  if  beast  and  men  it  feared, 

It  began  to  sink  in  the  sand  dry 

And  from  the  surface  it  disappeared. 

It  went  to  the  depths  of  the  earth, 

The  source  of  hidden  springs  to  seek, 
That  could  come  back  with  a  stream  fair 
Or  with  a  noisy  jumping  creek. 


I'll  find  you  among  ten  thousand, 

When  come  will  my  day; 
I'll  find  you  among  ten  thousand 

As  a  beast  his  prey. 

A  sight  of  yours,  yours  a  whisper, 

Will  you  me  betray; 
Here's  the  spoil  that  to  me  is  promised 

In  wild  joy  I'll  say. 


25 


She  cried  long  in  the  great,  great  silence 

And  in  the  darkness  of  the  night— 
And  he  stood  helplessly  and  humbled, 

And  silent  was  and  quiet. 
In  the  deep  darkness  of  the  night. 

And  those  that  heard  it  (angels  heard  it), 
Cried  long,  long  and  noiselessly  quiet. 

They  cried  the  strange  way  silence  cries, 
As  darkness  cries  at  night. 

But  they  cried  with  him  that  was  quiet. 


You,  too,  young  sweet  faced  girl, 

With  sunhreak  hurry  to  the  factory  gate! 
Where  you  will  share  with  us 

Our  miserable  dark  fate. 

()  if  to  toil,  sweet  child, 

Must  always  I  for  shelter  and  for  bread- - 
Why  doesn't  my  slavery 

Free  you  of  this  fate  sad. 


I  think,  the  Lord's  my  foe 
And  that  he  must  me  hate, 

And  feels  regret  and  woe 
That  thought  me  to  create. 

He  must  be  wrathful  mad 
That  not  poor  man  I  blame, 

That  the  world  is  gray  and  sad, 
But  that  it's  his  fault  claim. 


26 


O,  how  beautiful  are  the  words  we  don't  say! 
They're  as  flowers  that  never  yet  a  petal  lost, 

They  are  as  trees — phantoms  that  their  branches 

sway- 
But  that  are  by  rain  and  storm  never  tossed. 

They  are  children  of  a  joy  that  words  couldn't  find, 
They're  the  shyness  of  one  that  beg  did  not  dare. 

Truth  hidden  of  one  that  to  tell  the  truth  is  too  kind, 
Wounds  of  one  that  a  heart  wounded  would  not 
bare. 

Words  that  weren't  said  are  the  curses  of  the  wise, 
And  despair  of  the  one  that  still  cherishes  his 
faith. 

Of  those  that  in  darkness  trust  a  sun'll  arise, 

Bringing  glowing  blossoms,  scatter  raining  light. 


In  Fall  time  winds  blow  day  and  night, 
In  Fall  time  winds  blow  the  fallen  leaves  to  scatter. 
They  scatter  the  leaves  in  the  world, 
The  winds  seek,  seek  for  them  far  graves,  graves 
unknown. 

That  in  the  long  cold  winter  nights 

The  bare  trees  should  not  see  around  dead  children. 

The  winds  blow  them  away  far,  far 

That  the  sorrow  of  the  trees  shall  not  be  too  great. 


27 


I  am  the  one  that  fell  a  thousand  times, 

And  that  heard  the  crowd  jeer,  "You  lost!" 

But  I  could  never  dare  to  lose— 
I  was  ashamed  to  lie  in  dust. 

1  was  ashamed  to  breathe  and  not  to  struggle. 

And  disgrace  feared  a  stone  and  grave, 
If  buried'll  be  as  one  that  died  in  chains, 

If  die  will  with  the  marks  of  a  slave. 


Ten  songs  yesterday  I  wrote, 

But  I  didn't  earn  my  bread- 
But  today  not  one  I  wrote, 

This  day  sold  to  earn  my  bread. 

O  the  devil's  quaint  humor's  subtle. 

And  enjoy  would  I  his  wit, 
If  not  I  would  be  his  victim, 

But  just  the  same  fine's  his  wit. 


There  are  two  in  the  world  that  know  who  I  am- 

God  and  me. 
But  he  is  silent,  silent,  silent. 

And  the  world  doesn't  listen  to  me. 

And  the  world  does  not  listen  to  me. 


28 


In  the  beginning  of  beginnings 
Two  deathless  forces  were, 

And  one  could  not  obey, 

The  other  one  could  not  conquer. 

And  so  our  great  world  was  created 
And  warm  blood  thirst  our  breasts, 

And  we  cry  for  the  world 

And  we  are  lambs  and  we  are  beasts. 


That  fate  cruel  on  my  road 

I  will  meet,  I  knew — 
But,  God,  I  didn't  think  to  find 

On  my  way  you  too. 

I  thought  that  by  men'll  be  scoffed 

That  chose  a  path  new, 
But  didn't  think  that  scoffed  will  be 

My  Lord  by  you  too. 


The  yellow  trees  with  joy  and  love 
See  coming  a  girl  pure  and  sweet. 

And  with  deep  tenderness  they  rustle 
And  as  a  dear  friend  loving  greet. 

The  poor  and  simple  trees  happy  are. 

And  they  don't  know  that  she  wouldn't  stroll 
Among  them  late  in  summer  days, 

If  unhappy  wouldn't  feel  her  soul. 


29 


I  am  driven  by  a  duty 

That's  as  hard  as  fate. 
Stronger  than  all  deepest  passions 

To  create  and  recreate. 

I  am  tortured  by  an  urging 

Of  my  cosmic  soul. 
To  serve  a  God  cosmic, 

To  enrich  a  cosmic  goal. 


There  are  strange  days  in  my  and  your  life— 

When  a  twittering  bird  us  offend, 
And  provoked  are  by  a  fleeting  star, 

And  hard's  to  bear  the  voice  of  a  friend. 

You  long  and  long  and  you  don't  know  why. 

And  things  that  you  never  craved,  you  crave. 
And,  woe's  to  you  when  you  are  a  king! 

And,  woe's  to  you  when  you  are  a  slave! 

In  days  as  these — thoughts  of  his  gone  youth 

Fills  the  old  with  a  great  gloom. 
The  soul  of  the  youth  cries  for  his  mate, 

And  a  girl  cries  for  her  unknown  groom. 


30 


I  would  not  love  and  would  not  bless. 

Because  with  sorrow  in  my  breast, 
In  helpless  anguish  always  saw 

Downtrodden  and  oppressed. 
The  dear  ones  that  I  loved, 

The  dear  ones  that  I  blessed. 

I  swear  forever  not  to  curse, 

And  no  one  in  the  world  to  hate. 

Because  the  ones  in  wrath  I  cursed- 
It  was  my  cruel  fate 

To  see  them  gain  and  win, 
And  battles  won  celebrate. 


I  strolled  in  the  fields  without  a  goal 

And  very  sat  I  on  a  stone. 
An  endless  jungle  was  in  my  soul 

And  was  and  felt  I  all  alone,  alone. 

And  I  looked  from  afar  at  an  oak  old 
That  seemed  as  I  to  dream  and  long— 

And  bushes  in  the  distance  called 

To  share  with  him  the  thrill  of  a  bird's  song. 


The  sun  is  hesitating, 
The  world  to  leave. 

The  shadows  of  the  trees. 
In  silence  grieve. 

And  creeping  from  afar 
Comes  the  dark  night, 

And  hushingly  it  whispers; 
"Be  quiet,  be  quiet !" 

31 


The  girls  dive  and  the  girls  plunge, 
And  the  girls  dance,  the  girls  swim. 

What  makes  them  so  happy?    Not  thoughts, 
Not  a  dream. 

The  girls  love  the  blazing  sun— 

And  the  sun  see  in  the  skies. 
And  when  they  gaze  at  the  waves, 

Its  reflection  meets  their  eyes. 


I  dreamed  in  the  shadow 

Of  a  old,  old  tree. 
And  deep  in  my  soul 

Felt — it  dreamed  with  me. 

And,  when  evening  dawned, 

Rested  left  the  tree, 
And  I  fell  it  longed, 

Lonijed  to  follow  me. 


THE  ETERNAL  WOMANLY 

My  father  died  when  I  was  a  little  child, 
And  when  young,  very,  of  my  mother  was  deprived. 
Hut  know — that  more  my  mother  loved. 
My  brothers  died  in  infancy  but  know— 
My  sister's  love  I  more  than  them  would  love. 
And  in  the  world  the  plight  of  woman  strange 
My  pitying  heart  touches  more  and  deeper 
Than  the  plight  and  woe  of  my  brother  man. 
And,  if  would  children  have,  the  caress  gentle 
Of  a  little  daughter  love  more  than  my  sons  would. 


I  put  you  on  fire  my  poor  songs. 

Because  when  life  by  me  were  given, 
My  soul  wasn't  in  heat  and  fever, 

And  flame  of  heaven. 

And  I  dream  you'll  come  back  in  the  world- 
When  in  my  soul  will  be  fire  and  light — 

And  as  stars  eternal  you'll  shine 
In  a  dark  night. 

Gentle,  sweet  and  fragrant  grew  a  flower 

Of  bird  and  bee  a  friend. 
Once  on  a  summer  day  its  power 

Lured  to  itself  a  cruel  hand. 

And  for  the  dew  and  morning  light, 

And  for  the  stars  in  heaven, 
And  for  the  dreams  of  evening  quiet — 

Was  water  in  a  little  glass  given. 

*       *       *       * 

In  my  life  often  thought — the  sun 

Will  come  and  give  me  light. 
And  then  charred  and  burned  were  byit 

The  dreams  and  castles  I  built  at  night. 

And  the  most  tender  breeze  of  spring 
That  cheer  and  vigor  and  relief 

To  my  heart  tired  I  hoped  will  bring — 
Brought  me  new  often  pains  and  grief. 

The  trees  think  a  human  thought. 

And  dream  in  a  human  spell. 
And  the  moon  is  hinting  unheard  words, 

Untold  tales  the  stars  little  tell. 

All  obedient  to  the  great  Lord, 

Quiet  are  and  still— 
And  the  mysteries  of  his, 

And  his  glory  don't  reveal. 


33 


We  were  nothing  and  '11  be  nothing, 
As  the  far  stars  in  the  skies — 

As  the  cry  of  a  little  child, 
And  as  the  light  of  fire  flies. 

We  were  nothing  and  '11  be  nothing, 
As  our  predecessors  gone. 

Don't  fall  in  love  with  the  world! 
Don't  fall  in  love  with  the  sun ! 


Today  was  out  I  in  the  suburbs 

And  I  began  to  stray. 
And  I  stopped  a  little  girl, 

And  asked  her  for  my  way. 

And  cheerfully  the  sweet  girl-child, 
The  girl-child  sweet  and  plain, 

With  manner  solemn  tried 
Me  my  way  to  explain. 

We  parted — and  a  feeling  kind 
Awoke  deep  in  my  breast, 

And  that  shall  never  stray 
In  her  life  her  I  blessed. 


We're  wise  and  we  are  sad, 
Because  came  from  the  greatest  of  worlds— 
From  a  world  that  was  always  nothing, 
And's  nothing,  and'll  be  nothing,  nothing. 

We're  thoughtful  and  we're  gloomy, 
Because  go  to  the  greatest  of  worlds 
To  a  world  that  was  always  nothing, 
And's  nothing,  and'll  be  nothing,  nothing. 


34 


I  want  a  great  sun  for  myself. 

And  of  my  own  a  night. 
And  darkness  would  I  give  the  owl, 

The  skylark  give  would  light. 

I  for  myself  demand  a  world 
That  you  may  be  don't  need — 

Where  fish  and  seagulls  fall  in  love, 
And  wolf  with  her  milk  rabbit'll  feed. 


A  strange  dream  he  dreamed.     His  slave  said 
To  him  in  a  voice  low  and  meek: 

"O,  master,  with  this  I'll  buy  bread, 
But  how  can  I  be  sick?" 

"O,  master,  when  my  children'll  live, 

I  shelter  and  food  them  I'll  buy. 
But,  how  I  coffins  and  graves  will  give 

My  children  when  they'll  die?" 


In  the  blue  heaven, 

O,  shimmering  little  star! 
Are  you  too  high? 

I  am  too  far? 

Little,  twinkling  star 

In  the  blue  of  the  night,— 
You  miss  my  song, 

I  miss  your  light! 


35 


There's  a  fear  in  my  heart  that  my  soul 
Will  be  overfilled  with  bitterness 
And  then,  when  a  child'll  tell  me  a  word 
Harsh  or  cruel,  tears'll  be  in  my  eyes. 

And  men'll  wonder  and  will  say:  "How  foolish 
He  is.    A  child  said  a  cruel  word 
And  he  cries  as  a  little  child  himself 
He  would  be." 


And  1  said  to  the  silence  of  the  fields— 

I  came  to  you  that  you  shall  life  in  me  instill— 

I  was  told  that  the  green  of  grass, 

Hope  and  strength  give  again  me  will. 

And  with  a  sick  and  longing  heart  I  said 

To  the  spread  glory  of  the  endless  blue  in  heaven: 

"Faith  and  rest,  and  hopes,  and  dreams  great 
By  you,  I  was  told,  to  men's  often  given." 

And  the  green  of  the  grass,  and  the  silence  great, 
And  the  blue  of  the  heaven  said:    "O,  we  bless 

With  faith  and  joy,  and  cheer,  and  dreams 
All  those  that  joy  and  life  and  love  possess." 


36 


O,  woe's  to  me  that  wise  I  am! 

That  so  much  sad  I  see  ahead, 
That  the  age  old  of  children  see, 

And  of  young  brides  the  future  sad. 

O,  woe's  to  me  that  wise  I  am! 

That  ask  why,  why  a  home  build  I? 
Why  seek  a  mate  and  children  have? 

When  she  and  I  and  they  will  die. 


I  want  a  slave 

That,  when  will  seek  my  heart  to  win, 
Shall  have  the  gift  to  feel — 

The  hour  stroke  when  long  for  a  queen. 

A  ruler  want, 

A  ruler  unafraid  and  brave, 
That  feel  shall— that's  the  time 

That  most  I  need  is  a  meek  slave. 


I  was  sad,  sad  today  and  glad 
And  happy  felt,  and  unhappy  felt — 
I  met  today  the  one  that  I 
Would  choose  to  be  the  mother  great 
Of  our  world.    If  the  Lord  decide 
Would  to  create  a  better  race. 
And  I  couldn't  fall  on  my  knees, 
And  I  could  not  touch  with  my  lips 
Her  toes,  and  could  not  pray  to  her, 
And  couldn't  ask  her  to  touch  me 
With  her  pale  fingers. 


37 


A  DREAM 

In  those  days  o'  cruel  devil 

That,  when  helpless  was'll  remind 
Roaring  wild  a  scoffing  laughter 

Followed  me  behind. 

And  I,  cruelly  triumphing, 
Will  at  you  my  laughter  roar, 

And  will  make  you  feel  the  sorrows 
Of  my  heart  of  yore. 


LOOKING  AT  THE  CROWD 

Gloomy  men,  men  sad 

Out  in  rain  and  storm, 
Struggle  and  fight  for  bread, 

And  for  shelter  warm. 

Only  I  alone,  alone, 

Dream  of  things  strange  that  by  heaven 
Only  to  a  chosen  one 

Once  in  an  age  long  is  given. 


In  a  better  world  live  will 

Those  that  in  the  future  will  be  born. 
They  our  sorrows  would  not  feel, 

They  our  losses  would  not  mourn — 
And  their  days  in  strife  will  not  be  forlorn. 

But  we  chosen  are  by  fate 

To  joys  higher  and  to  joys  deep  more — 
We're  in  the  world  to  create 

All  that  is  for  them  in  store, 
And  we  are  the  father  of  the  great. 


We  are  two  worlds, 

Two  worlds  that  long  to  meet, 
And  each  of  us 

Is  to  the  other  sweet. 

And  when  two  worlds 
In  universe  must  meet, 

The  weaker  one 

The  better  one  is  lost. 


Many,  many  children  souls 

Sweet  and  charming  are  in  heaven — 
Why  was  taken  back  to  his  Lord, 

When  not  long  to  earth  wras  given? 

Father,  Father  of  the  world, 
Father  of  the  pure  and  just? 

You  a  little  soul  only  gained 
And  a  mother  a  world  lost. 


39 


Don't  tell  me  you  did  not  sin- 
In  a  world  of  sinners  we  must  hate  the  saints. 
Don't  tell  me  3-011  did  not  sin, 
Because  of  all  sins  one  of  the  greatest  is:    NOT  to 

be  human  enough  to  sin. 
Don't  tell  me  you  did  not  sin, 
Because   the   greatest  of  sins   is  not   to   be  brave 

enough  to  sin. 


Chilly  are  the  starry  heavens 
And  the  dozing  trees  are  quiet, 

And  you  see  the  stars  are  proud 
Of  the  splendor  of  their  night. 

Cloud  and  moon  you  sec  are  awake 
In  the  full  glory  of  their  state. 

You  ask  them  for  their  subtle  spell, 
In  a  hush  thev  answer,  "Wait." 


Under  the  leaves  yellow  of  the  trees 

Stood  a  girl  child 
Dressed  in  snowy  white  and  scarlet 

And  innocently  smiled. 

At  the  picture  looked  admiring  I 

Of  life  and  death. 
O  it's  painful  to  remember, 

Painful  to  forget. 


40 


I  saw  today  a  happy  girl 

That  was  a  job  this  morning  given, 
And  felt  as  she  would  get  a  gift 

From  a  fate  kind  or  boon  from  heaven. 

And  this  job  I  know'll  bend  her  spine 
And  ruin  will  her  girlish  grace, 

And  break  her  youthful  spirit  will, 
And  rob  the  color  of  her  face. 


If  I  would  be  a   God,   maybe  I  bloody  sacrifices 

would  demand— 
Because    I    know    the    fascination    of    demanding 

sacrifices. 
If  I  would  be  a  high  priest,  I  may  be  would  offer 

my  brother  man  to  my  deity 
Because  I  know  the  spell  of  offering. 
If  I   would  be   a   savage  father,   my   child   would 

sacrifice 
Because  withstand  couldn't  the  urging  passion  to 

be  a  victim  of  my  creator — 

Because  I  found  I  couldn't  resist  the  lure  of  sacri 
ficing  my  life,  my  youth  and  every  throb  of 

my  soul  to  an  unknown  God. 


The  waves  of  the  ocean  storm  the  boat. 
O  ocean,  ocean,  whom  do  have  on  the  bottom? 
To  whom  do  you  want  to  bring  a  precious  gift? 
Are  the  monsters  hungry  and  you  promised  them  a 

meal? 
Are   the    fishes   gloomy   and   you   promised    them 

playthings  ? 


41 


A  mother  was  glad, 
A  mother  was  sad — 

A  rope  for  her  only  son  hidden  she  had. 
In  the  gloom  quiet,  quiet, 
Of  a  deep  dark  night 

Wouldn't   swinging  hang  hours  long,   long   under 
stars  bright. 

Himself  when  he'll  feel 

Chose  his  last  hour  will— 

rlhe  hangman  of  hanging  would  not  get  his  thrill. 

A  mother  was  glad 

A  mother  was  sad— 

A  rope  for  her  only  son,  hidden  she  had. 


I  like  the  city  late  at  night, 

When  the  stars  in  the  skies  are  bright, 

And  felt  is  the  mystery  of  sleep 

In  the  breath  of  trees,  silence  deep. 

And  I  feel  that  the  world  is  gone, 
When  only  for  awhile  alone. 
And  then  I  feel  I  am  God's  child, 
Forgotten  long  in  life  wild. 

And  I  want  to  speak  to  the  Friend 
Great,  that  me  to  this  world  once  sent, 
And  ask  what  is  a  silent  night? 
A  dreaming  world  and  far  stars  bright. 


42 


A  little  wound  in  heart 
Made  by  grief  I  had, 

That  made  me  hours  long, 
That  made  me  hours  sad. 

Now  this  pain  forgot 
And  long  overcame — 

I  forgot  it  when 
A  woe  deeper  came. 


It's  a  wonderful  strange  thing 

That  I  early  and  late,  late 
Think  and  think,  and  think,  and  think 

Of  God,  men  and  life  and  fate. 

And  to  meet  was  never  blessed 
One  that  in  my  presence  feel 

Shall — here's  one  that  never  rests, 
Whose  soul  is  never,  never  still. 


O,  mother  my  mother,  you  that  raised  me  more  with 
tears  than  with  bread! 

What  shall  I  tell  you  the  sweetest  and  best? 
You  are  the  grand  mother  of  all  the  songs 

That  I  nurse  in  my  breast. 


43 


I  am  born  with  a  soul  to  pity, 

To  pity  all  that  are  in  need. 

To  feel  the  woes  of  the  downtrodden. 

But  I  am  not  a  saint  and  when 

I  struggle  hard  most  for  my  own  bread, 

And  fight  to  have  a  roof  above 

My  head  the  misery  of  men 

Forget. 

But  I  vow  by  the  Holy  Lord, 

And  my  own  long  hard  struggles  swear 

That  for  the  bread  of  all  the  hungry, 

And  for  their  shelter  I  will  fight, 

When  bread  and  shelter  for  myself 

Will  have. 


I  asked  myself  what  is  my  gloom? 

I  answered  when  the  day  was  done 
In  glory  and  in  splendor  saw 

For  a  short  while  the  setting  sun. 

I  asked  myself  why  do  I  brood? 

And  answered  through  the  morning  mist, 
When  hurried  to  my  daily  task, 

At  dawn  I  saw  the  sun  in  east. 

I  that  dreamed  of  suns  of  my  own, 

That  wants  more  light  than  the  Lord  made, 

Day  every  long  the  only  sun 

That  given  was  me  for  bread  I  trade. 


44 


When  a  lion  gets  old  and  feeble 
And  for  a  rabbit  hunt's  too  weak, 

Doesn't  he  then  think  of  his  sad  fate? 
And  doesn't  he  then  to  his  Lord  speak? 

Doesn't  he  then  lie  and  think  and  think 
Why  must  he  crave  warm  blood  and  meat? 

Why  wasn't  created  by  the  Lord 
That  as  as  zebra  grass  could  eat? 

Doesn't  he  roar  his  snarling  roar 
With  scoffing  innermost  and  hate? 

That  live  as  a  king  he  was  born 
And  die  as  a  mouse  is  his  fate. 


I'm  born  of  the  tribe  of  Jagudah, 

An  offspring  of  the  house  of  David, 

Of  David,  the  King  and  psalm  singer. 

And  God,  the  Lord  great,  to  me  said: 

"You  don't  get  no  share  and  no  portion 

In  the  Possessions  of  Jagudah, 

And  no  part  you'll  get  in  his  dominions, 

In  the  assembly  great  of  mighty 

You  would  not  seat.     But  you  will  be 

To  me  a  singer  as  David  my  knight 

The  King  great  of  Jagudah. 


45 


And  maybe  '11  come  to  heaven, 
As  children  back  to  home. 

Tired  of  the  long,  long  day 
And  tired  to  play  and  roam. 

^ 

And  there  we'll  stories  tell — 

One  killed  a  butterfly, 
And  one  a  garden  ruined 

And  one  told  a  big  lie. 

And  satisfied  will  laugh 

And  bold  and  loud  we'll  boast, 
And  we'll  dream  the  next  day 

Our  pranks  be  wilder  must. 


I  heard  the  Lord  laughed  bitterly  and  cried, 

I  chose  you  of  a  generation  said, 
To  be  a  master  and  to  be  a  reigning  king— 

And  you  dig  ditches  went  to  earn  your  bread. 

Souls  ages  long  created  and  destroyed 

And  you  to  be  my  spokesman  were  told, 

And  you  for  miserable  little  crusts  of  bread, 
And  for  a  damp  and  dark  cage  your  life  sold. 


46 


To  give  my  sweet  song  life 

Blood  of  my  blood  I  give, 
Soul  of  my  soul  they  get 

That  a  full  life  could  live. 

And  my  blood  crying  hear: 

"Feeble  man,  spare  your  blood  warm !" 
And  my  soul  cries:  "Man,  save 

Your  soul  for  days  of  storm!' 

O  fools,  fools  what  they  are! 

What  is  blood  or  a  soul? 
And  what  are  stormy  days 

To  one  that  has  a  goal. 


Today  I  wander  could  and  stroll, 
Today  could  at  the  heavens  I  stare, 

And  with  delight  young  in  my  soul 
Breathe  a  little  of  God's  air. 

But  few  and  counted  are  my  free  hours, 
And  the  world  of  books  is  so  great, 

And  love  must  be  suppressed  of  flowers, 
And  stars  when  want  my  own  create. 


47 


I  asked  myself:  "Why  do  I  sing 

Of  sun  and  birds,  and  youth,  and  spring?" 

The  answer  was — "Because  you  live." 

I  asked  myself:  "Why  do  I  dream, 

And  worlds  destroy,  and  worlds  redeem?" 

The  answer  was — "Because  you  live." 

I  asked:  "Why  all  the  burdens  bear 

Of  a  hard  life,  and  death  I  fear?" 

And  answered — "Because  you  live." 


Maybe  that  miracles  to  see  was  oftener  given 
Than  to  great  multitudes  of  men,  though  often 

brood 
Of  my  dark  life.    Stars  and  clouds  fleeting  saw  in 

heaven 
And  their  spell  felt  and  almost  understood. 

The  witness  of  the  birth  of  thoughts  was  in  my 

soul, 
And  know  the  glory  sad  and  sweet  of  hopes  that 

die, 

And  in  great  silence  heard  of  death  and  life  the  call, 
And  when  myself  I  cried  I  heard  my  great  Lord 
cry. 


48 


O,  let  us  not  love  each  the  other! 

O,  let  us  each  the  other  not  forgive. 
O,  let  us  dear, 

Our  vows  and  promises  not  believe ! 

O,  let  us  not  bless  each  the  other — 

It  is  so  hard  then  to  forget. 
And  let  us  dream 

That  each  the  other  never  met. 

Let  us  not  long  each  for  the  other! 

And  think  that  I  was  never  born! 
And,  crying  111  say: 

"Not  you — but  a  dream  my  is  forlorn. 

O,  let  us  not  love  each  the  other! 

Let  us  try  each  the  other  hate. 
Maybe  more  kind 

Will  be  to  us  our  cruel  fate. 


Word,  words  and  words  again. 

so  many  words  I  said, 
And  still  my  heart  is  heavy 

With  words  that  never  said. 

I'll  break  and  tear  my  heart — 
And  then  no  heart  I'll  have. 

And  then  words  that  are  burdens 
Again  I  wouldn't  have. 


49 


Come  will  a  day  so  I  dream, 

Thai   the   locks   that   keep   me   behind   gray   wall 

broken  will  be, 
And  will  be  free  to  wander  in  field  and  forest,  and 

mountain. 

And  then  will  I  say  to  my  friend: 
"Then,"  I  dream,  "I  will  have  a  friend." 
What  is  the  name  of  the  heavy  branched  tree? 
And  the  name  of  the  deep-rooted  one? 
And  what  is  the  name  of  the  bird  that  sings? 
And  what  is  the  name  of  the  bird  that  rumps? 
And  what  is  the  name  of  that  red  flower? 
And  what  is  the  name  of  that  white  flower? 
And  my  friend  will  wonder  and  will  say: 
"You  are  a  poet  and  you  don't  know  the  name  of 

a  tree  and  flower. 
You  are  a  singer 

And  you  don't  know  the  name  of  a  bird. 
Tell  me  what  inspired  you? 
I  will  seek  an  answer  in  silence 
And  I  will  think  maybe  I  was  inspired 
By  everything  that  to  know  I  missed, 
By  the  things  that  I  longed  to  see  and  could  not, 
By  the  things  that  I  longed  to  hear  and  did  not, 
By  the  things  that  I  could  not  gain  and  approach. 
And  I  will  long  to  tell  this  my  friend, 
But  I  will  fear  that  will  be  misunderstood— 
And  I  will  be  silent  and  think,  think  of  a  strange 

fate." 


50 


He  worshipped  her  as  a  meek  slave 
And  she  was  like  a  naughty  queen. 

hers  a  kind  word  made  happy  him, 
But  seldom  a  kind  word  could  win. 

And  for  love  of  another  one 

She  left  him  with  the  pain  and  sting. 
But  later  back  she  came  disgraced 

A  poor  humble  slave  and  found  a  king. 


Lord,  the  sunshine  I  of  you  demand— 

I  am  deprived  by  fate! 
And  the  smiles  I  didn't  get 
O,  Lord,  I  await ! 

I  my  holy  birthright  must  demand — 
Tis  holier  than  your  will. 

Till  in  my  soul  death 

Peace  and  rest  will  instill. 


Little  dear,  you  looked  at  me 

And  I  know  why. 
Because  in  your  young  heart 

Now  there  lives  a  little  spy. 

And  he  spies  days,  days  long, 

And  he  spies  night; 
And  he  seeks,  seeks  for  you 

Admiring  knights. 


51 


If  you're  a  poet,  then  don't  say: 

"No  beauty  is  in  your  life. 
And  that  waste  every  day 

In  grudging  misery  and  strife." 

God  does  not  make  of  gold  pure  gold. 

And  of  Suns  does  not  He  make  suns. 
Earth  to  give  light  is  by  him  told, 

And  makes  to  sparkle  and  twinkle  hard  stones. 


I  pity  all  those  that  are  as  I 

And  that  with  souls  as  my  were  born ! 
Day  every  for  themselves  must  cry 

And  every  day  the  world  must  mourn. 

Friends  of  the  world  and  all  alone 
When,  when  can  I  or  they  find  rest. 

God  let  me  the  only  one 

O  Lord,  Lord,  let  me  be  the  last. 


Maybe  in  the  year  when  the  world  will  die 

As  never  beautiful  will  be  spring. 
And  gloriously  rise  the  sun  will  high, 

As  never  flowers  blossom  and  birds  sing. 
And  the  world  in  that  year  will  die 

And  in  the  gloomy  day  when  come  will  my  death, 
I'll  see  a  happy  smiling  happy  rumping  child 

That'll  call  me  rump  and  dance,  and  peeved'll  get, 
That  wouldn't  share  heartily  all  its  pranks  wild, 

And  this'll  be  the  day  of  my  death. 


52 


The  yellow  leaves  on  the  trees  whisper,  whisper, 

whisper: 
"Our  days  are  gone,  our  life  is  past.    We  fall  and 

fall. 

And  there  is  no  other  world  for  us  that  is  to  come, 
And  never  back  to  life  and  youth  will  hear  the 
Lord's  call." 

O,  poor  and  dying,  brooding  leaves,  don't  cry,  don't 
cry! 

O,  not  alone  in  the  world  gloomy  are  that  fall — 
O !  withering's  my  face  and  a  girl  sad  I  know 

That  dies  as  you  do  with  a  brooding  withered  soul. 


God,  are  you  sometimes  a  man? 

And  the  truth  as  men  to  see  you  dare, 
Boldly  as  a  man  admit  when  wrong, 

's  your  desire  as  men's  is  to  be  fair. 

Or  handicapped  you  are 

By  your  will  that's  powerful  and  great, 
Or  learned  only  to  command 

And  from  nothing  misery  create. 


53 


My  known  and  unknown  brother  friend, 
God  shall  from  the  great  misery 
Save  you  of  being  right  in  the  world! 
O,  I  know  what  it  is — It  was  my  fate 
Sad  to  be  often  right  in  the  world. 
My  known  and  unknown  sister  friend, 
I  bless  you  with  the  greatest  blessing 
I  know  that  never  shall  attain 
The  state  of  sainthood.     O,  I  know 
What  it  is.    It  was  my  sad  fate 
Sometimes  to  be  a  saint. 


Covered  with  brambles  factory  walls 
Strangers  make  to  feel  at  ease, 
And  their  love  for  graceful  please. 
But  behind  the  brambled  green  walls 
Broken  hearts  are  and  broken  souls. 
Factories  brambled  me  don't  deceive. 
They  are  evil  in  a  new  style, 
It  is  the  devil's  pleasing  smile. 
They  can  happy  fools  deceive 
But  I  never  will  them  believe. 


54 


Deny  it,  if  you  only  can, 

That  our  fear  of  the  world  and  fate 
Is  the  fear  of  little  helpless  beast 

Of  monsters  great. 

Deny  it,  if  you  only  can, 

That  pray  in  sorrow  and  despair, 
When  challenge  would  and  scoff  and  curse, 

If  we  would  dare. 


A  little  girl  kneeled  before  a  cross 

To  worship  and  to  pray, 
To  plead  and  beg  for  many  things, 

In  a  wise  childish  way. 

She  whispered:   "Father — Lord,  give  me 

The  bitterness  of  things 
That  are  as  honey  mellow  sweet, 
And  feel  the  joy  of  stings." 

"O  let  me  hear  and  see,"  she  said, 

"A  serpent's  cheerful  joy — 
And  let  me  know  when  a  little  lark 

The  world  wants  to  destroy." 


55 


Lord,  send  me  suffering  of  soul 
Try  me  with  misery,  O  Lord! 
But  as  men  justify  my  pains, 
O  Lord,  Lord  justify  my  sorrows! 

It  isn't  the  woes  that  I  fear, 
Not  they  my  heart  break,  but  the  thoughts 
And  doubts  of  their  strange  mystery, 
They  cry  of  the  baffled  soul  why,  why? 


Out  of  the  way  I  seek  a  way 

Because  was  told:   "Be  brave,  be  bold, 
And  storm  face,  and  face  blizzard  cold, 

And  find  for  men  a  way." 

Far  from  the  world  brood  for  the  world, 
Depths  of  its  pains  my  soul  attains 
Because  in  my  heart  and  my  veins 

Runs  the  blood  of  the  world. 


O  yesterday  I  thought, 
I  love  your  youthful  eyes 

But  when  we  love  the  stars 
We  love  the  blue,  blue,  skies. 

O  yesterday  I  thought, 
That  smiling  my  heart  win. 

But,  when  the  flowers  love, 
We  love  the  valley  green. 


56 


I  wouldn't  dare  to  face  my  Lord, 

If  wouldn't  win. 
O,  this  would  be  my  greatest  shame, 

My  greatest  sin. 

Before  he  thought  of  all  the  world 

He  thought  of  me. 
And,  if  with  bowed  head  back  would  come, 

How  pained  would  be. 

And  in  his  hopes  and  dreams  deceived 

My  Lord  would  cry. 
And  million  times  me  recreate 

Again  would  try. 

And  of  this  great  pain  and  struggle 

My  Lord  must  save 
A  million  times  on  me  for  him 

Enoughs'  to  slave. 


God  wanted  to  create  a  wonder  great 

Of  fire  and  he  created  light  and  stars,  and  suns. 
God  wanted  to  create  a  wonder  great 

Of  water  and  lakes,  He  made  to  fall  on  rocks  and 
stones. 

God  wanted  to  create  a  wonder  great 

Of  colors  subtle  and  he  told  to  grow  grass  and 

tree. 
God  wanted  to  create  a  wonder  great 

Of  flesh  and  bones  and  he  created  men  and  me. 


57 


I  awoke  at  night  and  in  my  sleepy  mind 
Thought  I  am  yet  a  little  helpless  child, 

That  awoke  and  my  dear  mother  didn't  find, 
And  I  wanted  to  cry  loud  and  wild. 

But  to  think  regained  my  whole  power  I 

And  I  did  not  cry. 
No,  I  cried,  cried  but  no  one  around  could  hear, 

As  a  little  child's  soul,  my  poor  soul  cried. 

But  you  wouldn't  see  then  my  a  bitter  tear — 
Every  sigh  of  mine  in  my  heart  died. 

O,  as  a  child  I  could  not  cry  then, 
So  cried  as  a  man. 


When  the  young  are  called  in  battlefield, 

To  murder  and  to  kill, 
We  as  our  sisters  and  -our  mothers 

This  horror  great  can't  feel. 

If  on  the  battlefield  would  be  shed, 
The  warm  blood  of  girls  young, 

If  rot  on  mountain  sides  they  would 
Unburied  for  days  long. 

Then,  then  maybe  it  would  be  men 

That  would  the  horror  feel 
Of  sending  mothers,  sisters,  wives 

To  murder  and  to  kill. 


58 


When  twilight  dawns, 

The  world  is  sad; 
And  shadows  speak 

Of  all  the  dead. 

And  man,  poor  man, 
Is  a  helpless  beast, 

And  man's  deep  pain 
's  in  a  bird's  breast. 

And  stars  twinkle,  twinkle, 
In  thoughtful  fear, 

Though  to  the  Lord 
They  are  so  near. 

When  twilight  dawns, 
Your  poor  soul  cries; 

And  something  feel 
In  your  heart  dies. 


59 


Another  book  of  Poems,  "Frag 
ments  of  a  Life,"  by  the  same 
author,  is  in  preparation  and  soon 
will  be  published. 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 

Los  Angeles 
This  book  is  DUE  on  the  last  date  stamped  below. 


Form  L9-42m-8,'49(B5573)444 


LIBRARY  FACILITY 


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